we'll live to tell the tale (l.s.)

the dangers of tolerance

tw// implied self-harm , mentions of vomit , disordered behavior

stay safe! x

-

it didn't exactly turn out like harry imagined for it to.

he thought that he'd be coming over to check on his boy, and whatever state that he'd find him in, he'd hold him for as long as he was allowed. then, they'd talk about their feelings, maybe even establish what exactly their relationship was, cuddle and kiss a bit, and happily ever after.

but it wasn't so perfect, and it would never be, really.

harry looked back up at louis as they were both standing in the bathroom, suddenly becoming aware of the bloodied tissues in the trash bin and of louis, who was stood distraught right in front of him. "lou... lou, listen to me-"

"stop. please, just get out for a second. i'm not asking you to leave. go sit and watch tv or something. i'll be right out," louis pleaded, "i'll be fine. please, just do this one thing for me, and i won't ask any more of you. ever."

there was no way harry could fight back. and even if he had, louis would just look at him with those huge puppy-dog eyes of his, and harry would break even more. "o-okay. but be safe okay? i'll come check on you if you aren't out in a half hour."

louis laughed dryly, to which harry let out a sigh of relief at, because things must be looking up if the boy had the energy to be sarcastic. "i'm not going to kill myself while you're here if that's what you're worried about."

so all harry could do was turn around and give louis some time. however many minutes passed felt like an eternity. but he just had to pace around the living room, which could hardly be called that because it certainly didn't feel like anything or anyone was living in it. the pacing only gave him closure for a short period, so he began to clean the place up. at least it would be a somewhat productive use of his time.

there were half-eaten sandwiches on the ground which louis had clearly tried to eat but couldn't bring himself to, molding fruits, empty wrappers, napkins full of food that's been chewed and spat. it made harry queasy to look at and think about, but he stomached it and got the place to a state that was somewhat presentable. what the smell was from, he still couldn't but his finger on.

the door of the bathroom cracked open, causing light to spill through to the rest of the apartment. ironic, but louis looked truly looked otherworldly in the light, as if he himself were the source of it. and he very well could be. it'd be more fitting than the cold, sterile-looking white bulbs that still taunted harry about what he saw not even an hour before.

"you could have turned on a lamp, you know," louis said lightly, much more stable than before. "sorry for the mess though. i promise it's not usually like this."

harry was speechless for a second, unable to form words at the sight of the ocean boy, still holding all this trash in his hands as louis turned on a light. "oh, i didn't mind the dark. and it's alright, i already knew you were a mess with how you leave so many socks at my place," harry chuckled, before entering a more serious tone. "so... are we going to talk about it?"

"no," louis replied quickly, not even giving it so much as a second thought. "we won't. there's nothing to talk about, really. again, i'm sorry you had to walk in on me like that. but i can handle myself fine." his blue eyes were ice cold, his face stony. harry suddenly felt small—the locks he'd worked so hard to undo before had slipped right back on, this time with keys much harder to obtain. he cursed himself under his breath.

"i understand. i'll leave it for now, but just know that i care. and i'm here when you're ready. it might not be now, but someday, okay? i'm not going anywhere."